After images
by ravencrow neversmile
Summary: Sarkney oneshot, People change but its not always enough.


**AUTHORS NOTE: I am working on some other stuff but I had to get this little idea of a one-shot out of my head as it was interfering with progress on the other stuff mashed into my brain. I'm not completely happy with it may rewrite at a later date and would appreciate any constructive feedback.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jack (Jack shit that is not Jack Bristow) although you would be right in assuming I don't own him either.**

**Rated for mild, (and badly done) sexual content.**

He struggled against sweat-dampened sheets that twisted around him, pushing out against invisible enemies. Invisible to her at least.

She had grown accustom to his constant battle with the terrors that invaded his sleep.

At first that fact that the brash blonde assassin was afraid of anything had amused her slightly, She had always assumed him to be a creature of total self-confidence, fearless and needless.

Of course she had found the later to be untrue too, he had needs.

She was well aware of his needs whenever she found herself alone in his presence. His inability to control his desire for her would be both of their downfalls.

She felt the loss of his warmth as he went to the bathroom, she didn't acknowledge the absence, and chose instead to fabricate sleep knowing her seeing his frailty would drive him back into the cold defensive asshole that would usually evaporate in her presence.

She heard the water come on and knew he was desperately trying to wash away the persistent after-images of his nightmare.

She had previously found herself curious inquiring as what could rattle the heartless assassin so much and had learned it was better to leave it. She rubbed a spot just under her eye at the recollection as if provoking the thought had brought back the pain of where he had suddenly and without warning lashed out at her.' mind your own fucking business' He had stated coldly leaving her staring numbly after him as he dressed and left the hotel room.

Their relationship (if you could call it that, was self destructive at best).

They each had great passion that would manifest in one of two ways, in the field they would clash with violent intensity, their clandestine hotel meetings were no less intense but usually involved less punches and more scratching and biting and were recently becoming more frequent than their meeting in the field.

Although lately she had felt the dynamic of their liaisons had changed. He had asked her to stay the night with him and she had, before it had been simpler, it was sex, just a reaction to their shared attraction nothing more. He had changed it, something in him had changed and she was feeling herself torn by it. She hadn't wanted his affection, dare she say it 'his love'. She got those things from her relationship with Vaughn.

She heard him return to the room then felt his weight as he lay back down.

"I know you are awake" Sark stated matter-of-factly. He sounded tired and defeated.

She rolled over to face him feeling no reason to continue with the charade.

" You asked me once about my nightmares" His eyes found hers in the poor light and still held her pinned. She said nothing but nodded her head slightly in the dark; if she could see him he must be able to see her.

"I dream about the people in the embassy church in Mexico city" He didn't have to explain himself; She remembered the images of all those charred bodies, it was one of many unspeakable horrors that had managed to permanently imprint themselves onto her subconscious.

"They just stare at me" She felt the fear and remorse leak from his tense body.

"Then they burst into flame, they're reaching out for me, they never scream, not once" There's emotion in his voice he tries to hide but she has started to read him better. He looked at her questioningly, obviously expecting some sort of revelation.

"Welcome to humanity, Sark" She joked without humor. He shot her a look somewhere between anger and hurt.

" I really can't afford to grow a conscience in my line of work," He snapped bitterly choosing to get back up and pace slowly.

She could feel trouble brewing, his need to conquer his insecurities suspended close to the surface. She didn't need to be here for it, she'd experienced it more than once before and wasn't in the mood for an encore.

She wordlessly got up, flicking the lamp on to aid her in her search for her haphazardly discarded clothes.

She felt rather than saw his attention move back to her, the tension coiled in him near breaking point and despite her better judgment she raised cautious eyes to meet the twin orbs of cerulean fixed intently on her.

" I'm going home," She stated blankly starting to dress without a hint of self-consciousness. However she felt her stomach tighten waiting for the expected shattering of his tension, her resentment already making silent threats that the moment he struck out at her she would do him more damage than he could simply walk away from.

She managed to get to the door before his strong hand snaked out to grab her wrist, reflexively her unrestrained hand come up to connect with the side of his face.

His head snapped back with the force of the blow but he held her wrist tightly. His eyes met hers again with added darkness and a chilling look of fury. He grabbed her other wrist pinning them both painfully behind her. She expected to be struck back in retaliation, she expected anger or pain, what she hadn't expected were his lips on hers. Her will sapped by the fierce and insistent crush of his lips as he dropped her wrists from his strong grip. If she wanted she could take his moment of weakness and knock him on his ass, if she wanted she could overpower him and drag him into custody at APO, if she wanted…

All thoughts other than getting back out of her clothes left her as Sark moved her back towards the bed. She desperately needed to feel his hard body against her own fevered flesh, She hated the effect he had on her but at the same time felt her bodies betrayal as it yearned for his touch. He tore frantically at her clothes trying to help her shed them impatiently, his need mirrored her own, an unsettling codependency somewhere akin to addiction.

His frenzied attack on her clothing ended with a satisfying rip as he tore away her last stitch of cloth, she remembered inappropriately that the lingerie had been a gift from Vaughn. She felt Sark pause briefly his lips leaving hers; she opened her eyes and was ready to protest the loss when she met his gaze. He was blatantly admiring the naked curves of her body.

"You really are an amazing women Sydney Bristow," he said with a sort of reverence she would never have expected from him. She felt her skin prickle with heat at the unguarded compliment he had offered with such awe, regretting ever turning the lamp on so he could see the blush that would have been so easily denied in the dark.

When he returned to kissing her it was different. No less heated but more tender with none of the usual brutal need for gratification, He trailed gentle kisses down her body as a form of worship, his every move seemingly aimed at her pleasure alone.

She couldn't help the hoarse whisper that escaped her lips pleading for more with the simple murmur of his name.

His name from her lips a betrayal, again telling him of her need, he moved gently between her knees his hands sliding over her fevered skin until they rested on the gentle curve of her hips. She reached her hands around his back pulling him towards her, her own hips rising desperately towards him. He smiled down at her a small shake of his head as he pushed her hips back down into the mattress, withholding what she needed so badly.

"Please" The word, an involuntary confession of her need, her eyes connecting with his. She was passed caring about the appearance of indifference, she wanted him more than she ever remembered wanting anyone else.

She was soon rewarded as he sunk into her, pulling her as close as possible. She couldn't help but let out a whimper of pleasure as he pushed her tight into the mattress the sensation of him inside her heightened as he ground his hips into hers. He too let out a murmur of appreciation at the feel of her body around him. She snaked her legs around him drawing him as far inside her as she was able. She felt his pace quicken immediately in response. It wasn't the usual fight for dominance any of their previous 'encounters' had been, He was concentrating everything into pleasing her. She felt heat radiate from her core she was on the brink of release, Sensing her closeness he slowed and looked down at her his eyes holding her focus, a small smile gracing beautifully imperfect lips. Not the cold smirk of an assassin but the warm smile of a lover. He kissed her passionately grinding hard against her again, She felt herself drawing closer. She said his name against his lips, feeling him smile against hers, gratified that he had this effect on her. He obliged eagerly quickening his pace again until she shuddered to her climax. His own coming only moments later him gasping her name as if in prayer.

They laid tangled and breathless in silence, neither ready to move.

"Stay with me" His voice was light, almost a whisper. There was a needy tone about it.

"I can't I have an early briefing tomorrow" No details he was after all still the enemy. He raised himself up onto his elbow meeting her eyes with an intense look she didn't recognize.

"That's not what I meant" He didn't look away, suddenly she understood and immediately dropped her gaze to stare anywhere but the bottomless pools of blue that waited intently for an answer she couldn't give.

He tensed slightly beside her; he already knew her answer from the distance she had unconsciously put between them.

"I can't," she stated flatly just in case there had been any doubt in his mind.

They remained there in uncomfortable silence until Sydney could no longer bear it; she got up wordlessly gathering her clothes again, heading to the bathroom to shower.

When she had showered she was relieved to find the room in darkness again, Sark breathing smooth and even. She mentally thanked her good fortune stealthily crossing the room to the door; she'd managed to turn the handle before his voice stopped her.

"Goodbye, Sydney" He sighed resignation obvious in his tone. They both knew this would never happen again, whenever they met from now on it would only be in the field.

**Okay that's it please let me know if it sucked.**

**Cheers  RAVEN**


End file.
